How've I been?

That's the question I get asked the most. The answer is that I'm doing OK. I don't how I feel about that answer, but it is the answer. 

There are five stages of grief: Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression and Acceptance. There are disputes to the idea that we go through these stages linearly, like a journey on a trip. But rather cycle through these stages at whim. I also think it's quite possible to be in more than one stage at a time.

Mom's only been gone a little over two weeks. That's hardly a long trip. Her personality and presence are still everywhere. Half the time I expect her to walk in the door, a flurry of activity and grocery bags, and wonder why I haven't got the kitchen table cleared off.  And yet, we're sorting things that will go to good will. We've started on her clothes. And it's weird. So yes, I'm definitely in DENIAL. But I think I'm also in DEPRESSION

Maybe it's the let down of constantly having to reassess and make decisions. Maybe it's the quiet. Which I like. But even when mom was unconscious, she inspired scores of visitors and entertaining. So it could be that. It could also be that I don't really know how to feel yet. But I have noticed a pervasive lethargy and a steady diet of cake. Which cannot be good. So I've taken steps to address at least the cake part and will try to get more fruits and vegetables in. I mean, of course you feel terrible if you aren't eating well, sleeping well or getting exercise. I've started walking again and I'll make the effort to eat healthily.

Sleeping is another matter. In the days in and around the funeral I would wake up in the early morning and not be able to go back to sleep. I over-corrected after that by staying up super late but the effect was the same when I started back to work. When I started getting a full night's sleep however, my dreams were so difficult. I would always have some impossible task to do, with a group of people who were either useless or waiting for me to fail. And I would work so hard the whole dream, I'd wake up mad and exhausted. The past couple of nights I've said a short prayer over my dreams and they've calmed down. I don't really remember them but I know I'm still dreaming vividly. Sometimes a younger version of my mom will stroll by me and I'll think, wow she looks like mom. But we don't speak or interact. I never thought I'd yearn for dreamless sleep.

I haven't gone back to church yet. On a perfectly normal day, the church I've been attending is so good, so sweet, that my emotions over-spill out of my eyes and onto tissues if they are available and my sleeve if they aren't. I'm slightly terrified of my grief catching up to me in the middle of the ordered Anglican service where I don't really know anyone. But I will make myself go this next Sunday.  Maybe I'll arrive late and leave early. Maybe that will be ok.

But I'm also starting to make future plans! I'm excited, trying to chart out the next few years and determine different directions. Everything from making hiking plans and buying concert tickets to considering grad school and/or an online TEFL course. And of course travel! Right now it's all ideas which I'm not quite ready to share with people. But it's thrilling to start imagining again.